


Untitled Rickman/Cumberbatch Fic

by dederants



Category: Alan Rickman - Fandom, Benedict Cumberbatch - Fandom
Genre: Alan Rickman - Freeform, Benedict Cumberbatch - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-12-21
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-10-27 17:02:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/298057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dederants/pseuds/dederants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the story of Ben and Alan and how a chance encounter in an elevator changed their lives forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It’s a bit chilly outside. Unusual for mid-September in New York, but not a surprise, considering autumn is around the corner. Ben clutched his coat closed to guard his body, a white t-shirt and long black pajama pants, both made of semi-thin cotton, separating his alabaster skin underneath. Not only was it crisp outside during his cigarette, but in his soul. He’s had a long day, and he needed to get away from it all.

He’s hurt, but grateful that he’s not forever bound to what would soon become his past; his wife had been unfaithful, hiding an illicit affair with their recently widowed male neighbor (she only went to console him, she said; one thing lead to another, things happened, it was a one-night stand, didn’t mean anything). One thing Kate failed to do was tell Ben that she’d been messing around with that man long before his wife passed, for the last three of the five years that Kate and Ben were married. He was grateful that they had no children to fight over,  and the couple signed a pre-nuptial agreement before they said “I do”. He was ready to move on...

Before they got married, Kate and Ben had been nearly life-long friends, from when they first met in primary school, at the sandbox, to attending prom together. The romance didn’t come into play until they both graduated from separate colleges and returned to live with their respective families: Kate called Ben a week after she got home, and they met up at a neighborhood coffee shop an hour later. They caught up with each other, and ended up cuddling under a blanket in the backseat of Ben’s car, naked and basking in the afterglow of their passionate yet quick lovemaking session. Three months after that, Ben proposed and Kate accepted, but they held off for a number of years before actually making it official. 

Within their first 18 months of marriage, Kate wanted to get started on extending their new family, but Ben wasn’t in that much of a hurry. He’d just started working as a up-and-coming attorney for a top law firm, and not yet ready to become a father, so Kate decided to go back to school and study to become a social worker, which is in high demand. She never thought that would be her line of work, being that she’s earned a degree in Business, but she began to enjoy the work and the rewards that came after cases ended successfully. That’s how she met their neighbor, Joe, who was attempting to cope with taking care of a cancer-stricken wife and fighting alcoholism himself. A week after Kate’s first appointment at the man’s home, feelings began to develop, moments became more intimate and physical, and guilt had built up as Joe’s wife lay dying in a hospital bed. A month after Kate and Joe became lovers, his wife passed away.

Three years into losing his wife, the man continued to allow Kate into his home and into the bed he and his dearly departed once shared for 13 years. One night, the night before Kate “spilled the beans” to Ben, remorse crept up on Kate. After telling her lover that she had to move on and try to make things work with her husband, she returned home and thought about what she’d say to Ben. _The poor bastard_ , she told herself. _He doesn’t deserve this, but there’s been so much lacking in this relationship for so long. All I wanted was a baby, to grow our family, but he put the kibosh on that plan. He’s too busy, but I was willing to wait. No, I’m being too selfish. I need to tell him what’s going on._

She wouldn’t see Ben that night, since he was working late on a bankruptcy case. She went to bed and woke up the next morning, Ben’s side of the bed not undone and still cold. He didn’t return home until 4pm that day; when Ben opened and stepped through the door, he saw Kate pacing in the kitchen, her index and thumb rubbing the bridge of her nose in frustration.

“What’s wrong?” Ben said in his deep British drawl.

“Nothing,” said Kate, avoiding eye contact with him. She was still thinking about what she should say to Ben that’ll make the affair easier to talk about, but she knew that she still had to at least tell him first what was going on. 

“You’re starting to worry me, love. You look distressed.” Ben walked on front of Kate to stop her in her tracks, taking both of her arms into his hands and gently rubbing her left forearm with his right thumb.

“Please,” pleading with Kate in the most gentle tone she’s ever heard his voice get. “Tell me what’s going on.”

Kate looked up and into Ben’s crystal blue eyes, which were eagerly waiting for a response. Her eyes began to well up, and she took a deep breath and exhaled. “I cheated, Ben.”

Ben held her gaze, complete with a stunned look on his face. The moment she said those three words, he was gutted. He’d spent their relationship being faithful, assuming that she was doing the same. He thought he had been doing what was expected of him as a husband, but then, suddenly, guilt on his part began to settle into his gut. Ideas that he was spending less time with his wife and more time with his job started to rot his brain. She wanted a baby, but he wasn’t ready for that yet, but what if he had just put his demands aside and fulfilled her one wish?

“Ben, honey, I understand what you may be thinking, and it’s not your fault. I just want you to know that.” Ben dropped to his knees on the kitchen floor while she talked, and Kate, following suit, grabbed and rubbed his left hand on both of hers, automatically caressing it with her right hand.  She then explained what had happened when she first cheated, but she lied, telling Ben that it was a one-night-stand and nothing more. Ben could hear much of anything Kate was saying, due to the overpowering voice of guilt yelling loudly in his head and taking over his conscience, but Ben accepted her infidelity, and, still in shock, decided to forgive Kate, just to stop her from talking: “You’re only human, things like that can happen. I don’t know why, but I feel like crying.”

“Oh, god,” said Kate, throwing her arms around Ben’s neck and tightly embracing him. She felt horrible once he started shaking and sobbing. She knew there was no way that she could keep the actual length of her affair from her husband, nor could she prevent him from seeing an imminent appearance of a baby bump, a result of her infidelity.

After Ben calmed down, they ordered Chinese take-out for dinner, eating in silence. They cleaned up, took separate showers, put on their nightclothes and went to bed without a word to each other. Kate was the first to drift to sleep, but Ben was wide awake. The thought of his wife with another man severely tore at his insides, and he wanted to rip that feeling out of his body, as well as that image out of his brain. As he looked out the window, the silent sobs began, and Ben cried himself to sleep.

When he woke up the next morning, the vicious thought returned, but he figured he was dreaming about the whole thing, and his arm unconsciously flung behind him to feel for his wife, but she wasn’t in bed. Panic rose in his throat, and he was milliseconds from calling her name when he then heard a retching noise coming from the master bathroom. The calm that came over him after hearing that sound only lasted a good three seconds before he realized what that noise meant. 

As Kate walked out of the master bathroom, wiping her mouth with a wash-towel, her eyes widened at the site of her husband stuffing a suitcase with as many clothes as he could fit into it. She didn’t stop it, because she knew that he knew. He heard it, heard her throwing up in the bathroom when he woke up. She couldn’t blame him for leaving, and she wasn’t going to get in his way. There’s no telling what would happen if she did.

Ben was beyond angry. He wanted to yell and scream at his wife, ask her why she would do such a thing as go behind his back and mess around with another man. Instead, he suppressed that anger and continued to pack. There are things he left behind for the time being to return for while Kate was out at work, so he got what he could, threw on a pair of jeans and his Chuck T’s, grabbed his car keys and suitcase, and walked out of the bedroom as fast as he possibly could. He was thankful after getting to the Range Rover that he didn’t have to hear, deal with  or see Kate; after throwing his suitcase in the backseat, he jumped into the driver’s seat, turned on the ignition, and hurriedly backed out of the driveway.

Ben shakes those nightmares out of his head, taking a drag from his almost-finished cigarette. The memory of him sobbing loudly in the privacy of his car bothered him, and he threw the finished cigarette onto the ground and went back into the hotel. Surely some movement will keep the negative thoughts at bay. Unfortunately, while waiting for the elevator, a really bad memory came to him: the day before, he’d went back to their home, to collect some papers and his briefcase for work. Thinking that his wife was out at work, Ben went up the stairs and into the master bedroom. As he walked up the stairs, however, he began to hear muffled yells. Realizing what those sounds were, he gathered him confidence, opened the door, and walked into the room where Kate and her lover were having sex, Kate being on top in a cowgirl position, facing Joe and bracing herself on the man’s knees behind her. Neither were clothed, nor were they covered with a sheet. Ben simply walked over to the closet, grabbed his briefcase that stood by its door, opened it and searched through the papers inside. 

The man wasn’t paying much attention, but Kate, in the throws of passion, managed to turn her head in Ben’s direction and open her eyes to see him kneeling on the floor. 

“OH MY GOD! Ben, why didn’t you call or anything?”

“I didn’t think anyone would be home.” His tone was monotone and calm during this sentence, but then changed to a cheerfully sarcastic one. “Didn’t mean to disturb you; just came to get some papers for work. Carry on.”

“Oh, God,” said Kate. Her lover lay underneath her, eyes closed. He didn’t want to get involved in a possible argument, so he tool a pillow and placed it over his face.

“BEN--”

“I didn’t come here to argue. I’ll only be a few minutes, and then I’ll be out of your way.” By the end of his sentence, he was done perusing the contents of his briefcase and had stood up to walk out with it. he wanted to escape the house as fast as he could and break free of Kate’s excuses; he was exhausted from crying his eyes out the night before and constantly thinking about what went wrong and how it could have all been prevented. He’d finally come to the realization that it wasn’t preventable, and that it wasn’t his fault.

Finally, the thought was interrupted by a tap on the left forearm crossed across his chest and interlaced with the right; he’d gotten on the elevator and not realized it, along with a man who had also gotten on, asking Ben for the past ten seconds which floor he was going to. For some odd reason, this is what Ben needed. Not just the interruption from the horrible dream, but someone to wake him up from it, and this man, who looked to be in his mid-to-late 50s (but could have been older; looks can be deceiving) was the wake-up call.


	2. Chapter 2

Alan is, in retrospect, a predator. Although unintentional, he’s got a reoccurring thirst for the company of another, even when that company is someone aside from his wife. He was well aware that he still had that spark, the same spark that attracted Juliet to him nearly 35 years before. He always loved his wife, and still does, but decides to spend more time with women young enough to be his daughter. Sitting at the bar of the hotel’s premier restaurant, he stalked his prey behind a tumbler halfway full of scotch and ice, his beverage of preference. Oftentimes, a scotch on the rocks, champagne or wine was the perfect trap, and he’d have another notch on his post the next morning.

The upside to Alan getting away with infidelity were the business trips that he took, thanks to his job working for an advertising agency. In reality, he didn’t need to work, being that he’s the sole heir to a multi-million dollar business left behind by his late older brother. Having no wife or children to leave it to, he trusted his brother would keep it afloat. Besides,  Alan helped him get the business off the ground and running, and advised his brother of what to keep, change and/or avoid. Yes, Alan was the person to go to when it came down to business. Fidelity, on the other hand, is a different story.

Alan has been with his wife for 35 years, and during those 35 years, he’s been faithful for the first four. It’s not that he didn’t fall out of love for her; it was love at first sight when Alan and Juliet met, but Alan also had to use his powers of persuasion and manipulation to convince Juliet that he was the one for her. No, after four years he got bored. Became self-conscious. Was he still attractive to other women? He wasn’t sure after the first four years, so he dressed in his best suits and kept himself fit in order to garner attention from the opposite sex, and it worked. He was still a very handsome man, and smart, gentle, great listener (although most of the time, he thought about what a woman was wearing underneath that tight dress while she talked his ears off). His wife was oblivious, or maybe just naive; how could she not see what was going on? Or, if she knew, why would she ignore it, stick around? Why wouldn’t she retaliate and mess around with another man? She was just as gorgeous as the day they met. Unfortunately, even though Juliet had been married once before, she hadn’t experienced an unfaithful husband as she had experienced a gay one.

Alan soon threw that thought to the back of his mind once he saw a beautiful redheaded minx of a woman walking in his general direction. He guided his finger gently along the rim of his tumbler, giving his best bedroom stare, and managed to wrangle the young woman in, ordering her a drink as she slowly walked over and talking in a near whisper, his voice containing a gentle rumble from the back of his throat. His gift, second to his business savvy, was his velvet voice; the very moment he spoke, women would MELT. And that’s exactly what this twenty-something girl did, and she and Alan would leave the bar and hit the elevator within twenty minutes of meeting.

Alan’s hand caressed the small of the girl’s back during their walk to the lift, and when the doors of the elevator opened, that same hand wrapped around her waist, holding her close as they both walked in. Ben briefly glanced at the couple, but didn’t pay much attention to them; he was oblivious, depressed and couldn’t help thinking of his own dire situation. Then the tap on Ben’s arm, Alan asking what floor Ben was going to, pulling Ben from his stupor. Alan and his new date faced the elevator doors as they rode, but Alan turned and snuck a peek at Ben, who wasn’t paying attention. With a puzzlingly blank stare, Alan found himself admiring the tall, slender man standing at the back of the lift. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but there was something so striking about this man he’d never seen before. He saw that this man seemed fragile. He couldn’t get over how his smooth, porcelain skin so much resembled the material, pale and set right by his flaming, ginger-red hair, tangled in loose curls, those piercing blue eyes, the high, defined cheekbones. This man looked... beautiful.

Before Alan could get another word out, a ding was heard, a signal that he’s reached his floor. Alan’s date was first to walk out, but Alan took another few seconds to stare at Ben in wonder. He was sure this young man would be at this hotel for a while, and was optimistic in getting a meeting with him before he himself had to leave for the sauna he called home.


	3. Chapter 3

Ben could feel eyes on him, but was overwhelmed with thoughts of events prior. Once the lift reached its destination and the doors opened, Alan came back down to earth and stepped off the elevator, but Ben stayed, not realizing that he was to get off on the same floor. As Alan and the girl walked away and the elevator doors closed, Ben looked up and managed to catch Alan looking back at him, as if he’d seen him somewhere before, or at least that’s how Ben felt about the encounter. Ben was feeling a bit creeped out that another man would be staring at him like this man had, but, in the brief moment they caught one another’s eye, there was something... intriguing about the older man. The elevator doors closed and Ben was left alone to think of how and why he hadn’t noticed the man even getting on the lift. For a few minutes, Ben could do nothing but think of what could have been said between the two men and whether he himself was being rude about not even acknowledging the other. He then realized he’d been sitting in the elevator a bit too long, thinking of how security must’ve felt seeing him standing and pondering in there all by himself, so he pressed the ‘open door’ button and wandered off of the lift.

Walking to his room, he couldn’t help but wonder, out of curiosity, what part of his floor the older man was staying in, or whether he’d encounter him ever again during his stay. Chances were that Ben would be staying there for a while, at least until he found a place of his own and got himself settled. Upon entry, he stood against the door once it shut. That look, from a complete stranger. Ben had never seen him before, or paid much attention to the fact that he had someone with him, but he would NEVER forget that look. The scenario played again in his dreams that night, and when he woke up the next morning, rolled out of bed and went to check himself out in the bathroom mirror, he noticed his face wasn’t puffy; he’d managed to avoid crying himself to sleep. Maybe this man was the bit of help that he needed for the moment.

Ben didn’t know know it then, but this man would eventually change his life...

 

As Alan’s room door closed, he gently pushed the woman against it and began whispering in her ear. She started getting worked up just hearing his velvety voice whisper naughty things in her ear. What she didn’t know what that he was using this tactic to take his mind off of that guy in the elevator. As the girl began kissing and sucking on Alan’s neck, he began to lose focus, but not from arousal; he wondered what room on the floor the young man could be staying in. He wondered whether or not he was going to see that man again, soon realizing what had invaded his thoughts and puzzled as to why he was even thinking of such trivial matters while this beautiful young woman was marking her territory on his neck. The blond, named Anna, had undone Alan’s pants and, with her free hand (the other was ruffling through Alan’s hair) began stroking his manhood, bringing him back down from his thought process. He had “business” to take care of...

 

Since he got off the elevator and got into his room, Ben had been curled up under the comforter, crying his eyes out for four hours. It had become a habit within the course of four days, with Ben getting out of bed and, upon seeing his puffy, red face in the bathroom mirror, splashing cold water on it. Normally his face felt raw when he cried, but he’d gotten used to the pain at this point, especially since Ben couldn’t help himself.

Once the sobbing stopped and he’d cleaned himself up, Ben called for room service and turned on the television; his head needed to be somewhere else. Just then he remembered the older man he saw walking off of the elevator with his date, how he looked back at Ben with a... longing look on his face. That look bothered Ben a bit, but he wished it kept bothering him once he got into the shower. The minute he shut the shower door, the image Kate in her gown on their wedding day crept up on him, bringing him to tears; he was moved in the same exact manner on that day, when he saw her stepfather walking Kate down the aisle, salty drops slowly building in Ben’s eyes and slightly blurring his vision. She was so beautiful, but how could someone so stunning do something so evil and disgusting as she did? 

Time to stop thinking about it, Ben told himself. He knew it was time to move on or he’ll forever be at a standstill, and if it meant thinking about how another man, a much older man, stared at him after getting off an elevator they shared, then so be it.

One thing that engrossed Ben was that this man may be older, but he’s definitely a good-looking, attractive guy. Dressed neatly, looked fantastic with white hair... Ben acknowledged why such a young woman would accompany this man to his hotel room and spend some quality time with him. “ _Silver fox”_ , Ben whispered to himself. He then shook his head at the revelation, and when his room service arrived, he ate and stared at the television for the next few hours.

After eating, Ben treated himself to a _Top Gear_ marathon and, during one of the commercial breaks (he’s watching it on _BBC America_ , because we believe in commercial breaks), he called his job, asked for and was granted a month’s leave of absence. He didn’t get into details, but he also called one of his colleagues, asking for help with the divorce proceedings as well as the move to a new place when he secured one. 

He later dozed off during one of Jeremy Clarkson’s challenging attempts to justify how the car he drove in was better and faster, this after losing a race against co-host Richard Hammond. Ben was utterly exhausted from **EVERYTHING** , and needed the rest. He began to dream, however, of the man he’d seen in the elevator.

 

The two men were in a room, everything was white: the walls, the bedding, the carpet, the drapery. On the king-sized bed, Ben and Alan stared at one another; Ben’s eyes darted from Alan’s face to scan the surroundings, confusion occupying his face, while Alan ogled at him with longing. Alan carefully examined Ben’s facial features: the high cheekbones, the smooth, porcelain skin, piercing blue eyes. Alan realized he’d never come across a woman with eyes as beautiful or lips as supple as Ben’s... Ben opened his mouth to speak, but before a word was uttered, he found Alan’s lips pressed against his. He was nonplussed by what was happening, but he didn’t stop the man. For some reason, this moment felt right to him. Finally closing his eyes, Ben surrendered to the kiss, sliding his hand onto the nape of Alan’s neck. The kiss was roughly broken, heavy breathing commenced, and the men got touchy-feely with one another. Ben exclaimed a soft grunt as Alan gently brushed his left hand against Ben’s manhood, stiff from the start. Alan kissed Ben again, their tongues wrestling with each other, and as he pulled away, Alan’s teeth grabbed onto Ben’s lower lip and let go after a few seconds. Lust smoldered from stunning blue and sensual amber-hazel eyes as the two men began removing articles of clothing from one another.

But as soon as their shirts fell onto the floor and Alan sucked at and nibbled on Ben’s long, slender neck with Ben moaning in ecstasy, Ben’s eyes fluttered open.


	4. Chapter 4

Ben lay still on the bed, thinking about what he’d just awoken from. _How could I possibly have a dream about a man I don’t even know, much less have sex with him?_ he thought. As he sat up in bed, he felt something different: when his hand felt on the front of his pajama pants, there was a wet spot, which felt a bit sticky to the touch. _You’ve got to be kidding me_.

Ben was so glad that he was by himself in the room. There’s no telling how someone would feel, especially had he brought another woman who wasn’t his wife into his room for a “session”. _How embarrassing would that be?!_ Ben looked down at the wet stain, later getting out of bed, removing his clothes and jumping into the shower. He wanked himself a bit, but it didn’t take him long to come, especially with the dream fresh on his mind.

 

Alan’s eyes slowly opened; he’d just woken up to his lady friend, Anna, giving him some nice, slow fellatio. He eventually came in her mouth, and she gave great thanks with a smile and a swallow. A smirk grew in the left corner of his mouth, illuminating his handsome face and giving Anna a big ego boost. She’d be greatly disappointed if she were to find out that something or _someone_ else was the reason for the growing smirk. 

Anna had already freshened herself up before giving Alan his morning treat, and once finished, she exchanged a few kisses before finally leaving the hotel suite for good. Alan lay in bed thinking about what just happened: during the blow-job, the face of the young man in the elevator popped into his head. He’d closed his eyes and envisioned that same young man on his knees, his lips wrapped around Alan’s manhood, and as the tongue flicked at the head, Alan came in both worlds. He was satisfied, yet worried. If he saw that same young man anywhere in the hotel, he didn’t want to seem creepy or stalker-ish. This time, he really cared about how this young man saw him and he wanted to make an impression. He’d hoped that he’d be staying at the hotel so he’d have to chance to make that impression. Then he wondered why that was even an issue at all. He was into women, but he then realised that this one man had made a major impression on _him_. He was so handsome, and had gotten hard the minute he’d seen him. Thank God Anna didn’t notice; how offended she would have been.

There was no way Alan was going to get out of that bed without rubbing one out, at least with the Mystery Man in mind. At the very thought of him, Alan had gotten stiff once more, and it wasn’t long after Alan grabbed a hold of his member that he’d come vigorously. Getting out of bed and into the shower soon followed, and when he’d gotten dry and dressed, he made plans with himself to have breakfast in the hotel restaurant; all that sex had worn him out and made him hungry.

 

Ben was dressed and hungry, and, although he could have stayed in bed and ordered room service, he needed fresh air and a cigarette or five. Might as well get out of the small, suffocating hotel suite. Before leaving the room, Ben checked and made sure he had everything he needed: room key, wallet, cigarettes, lighter, backup lighter, genitals in place... yes, he was ready. 

Opened the door, walked out of the room, pulled the door closed behind him, turned and walked down the hall; Ben looked towards the elevator at the end of the corridor, only to find the older man from the day before gazing at him and quickly glancing down at the red carpet. Alan realized his staring may offend this young man, and that’s the last thing he wanted before buying Ben dinner first.

Ben was a bit... awkward and nervous around the man; he’d had that lustful dream about him just the night before, and he started to feel as if this man knew about it through his stare and wasn’t happy about it. Little did Ben know that Alan, although he really didn’t know, felt another way about him...

 

Both men got on the elevator, and silence loomed in the air. Ben looked ahead at the button panel while Alan faced the doors. He couldn’t help but sneak a peek at the reflection of Ben in the doors, making out every curve of Ben’s face, thinking about what he’d be doing to that lovely face at that very moment. 

Ben bit his lip as remnants of the dream came to mind; the memory of it came flooding back the moment he saw Alan, and the dream made sure he’d NEVER forget, as if it were a form or foreshadowing.

That ride in the elevator was THE LONGEST ride of their lives.


	5. Chapter 5

Once the elevator reached the lobby, and the doors slid open, Alan was the first to walk out. Ben couldn’t help but notice his cool and confident walk, and started to follow him wherever he was going. But instead of being too close, he waited a minute or so before following Alan, keeping the man in his sights. _Don’t wanna freak him out with a stalker vibe,_ though Ben. It was enough that he was even following this man out of sheer curiosity, considering the unspeakable sex Ben had with him in dreamland, events that he dare not tell anyone about, not even his ex-wife. Not that he would tell her, anyway...

Alan had walked into the hotel’s main restaurant, and upon reaching the bar, ordered himself a drink. “Ask my date what he wants once he gets here,” said Alan to the bartender, motioning towards the door to Ben. Ben blushed on the spot, but how could he turn down an offer? He wasn’t asked formally, but he might as well have been, since Alan was aware that he’d been following him all along. Ben then walked over to the bar. “I... don’t need anything other than a glass of ice water, thank you.”

“That’s it?” asked Alan. “You sure? You look like you could use something stiff.”

“No, I’m fine. How did you know I’d be here?”

“You were asking questions in the elevator.”

“I didn’t even say a word to you.”

“No, but the expressions your face made gave you away, and it’s obvious that you’re curious as to what I’m all about.” _Damn_ , Ben thought; he couldn’t hide his emotion anymore, but Alan didn’t know the whole story. “So, um... what’s you name?”

“Ben, sir.”

“No need for formalities. I’m Alan, and this here is Richard.” Alan said, pointing to the tall, lanky bartender. “I’ve known this man for _years_ , and he’s known to be the best bartender in the city. Master of his craft, I should say.”

“Oh, don’t mention it, old man,” said Richard. “I have you to thank for introducing me to the owner of this place during its development. Can never thank you enough.”

“The only way you can thank me is by keeping the drinks flowing for me whenever I come through, and you’re always as good with the ladies as I am,” said Alan, a grin growing wide across his face. Ben, a bit nervous, looked like a child compared to the other two men, regardless of the fact that he’s a grown, thirty-something man.

“So what are you doing here?” Alan asked. “In this hotel, I mean.”

“Oh, me? Um... long story.”

“Did you get kicked out by your old lady? Those women troubles will fly by soon, and she’ll be begging you to crawl back to her,” said Richard, who didn’t care whether or not he was out of tone.

“No, I... I just finalized on my divorce.”

“Oh, boy. At least you got out when you could. You’re still young, I imagine. You look like you’re a bit too young to be worried about marriage and all that dumb shit. What are you, 15?” Richard giggled after Alan stopped speaking.

“No,” said Ben defiantly. “I’m 35.”

“Jesus! You sure don’t look it, but the more you mope around, looking like shit, the quicker it’ll creep up on you, and you won’t know what hit you until you look older than me,” said Richard. “Look at fucking Alan. He’s 65 years young, and he doesn’t look a day over 50.”

“Shut your face, Richard. Old bastard.”

“No, really. You should see the women he ends up leaving here with. Pretty young things, dressed in their skimpy outfits. I’m a year younger than Alan, but none of those girls would give me a second glance. What’s your secret, Alan? You pull it out for them to see?”

“No, I don’t,” Alan said, annoyance in his voice. “I have no need to resort to such foolishness. These girls have no better option than these chavs that like to call themselves men; no manners, no consideration for others, and they’d rather walk around with printed t-shirts with ridiculous designs on them, saggy pants that hang off their asses and no belts, or hair with too much product in it. I just so happen to be a proper British gentleman who knows how to treat a woman right. Speaking of women, Ben, what went wrong in your marriage that it had to end?”

It took a while for Ben to answer, but he didn’t want to seem like he was lying. “She... cheated on me. With our neighbor. In our bed.” Ben was holding back tears as he talked; he took a deep breath and managed to contain himself before his emotions got out of hand.

“Fuck, mate,” said Richard. “Why the fuck would she do that to you? You look like a good, clean bloke.” Richard stopped and thought for a minute. “You’re not gay, are you?”

“No, I’m not!” 

“Ok, no need to yell at an asshat like Richard, as much as I love him.” Alan was right, and this calmed Ben down. “Now, you’re separated from--”

“Divorced,” Ben corrected him.

“You’re... _divorced_ from this woman, and now you’re free. Free from having to ever worry about that haggard wench ever again.”

“Here, here!” yelled Richard. 

“Well, I wouldn’t call her a...” Ben stopped once he noticed Alan and Richard staring him down. “Never mind. She’s a stupid bitch who felt it best to fuck around with a twat of a neighbor, and I’m free from her, once and for all!”

“You tell ‘em, boss!” Richard made a stiff drink for Ben, gin and tonic on the rocks and on the house. Ben realized that he should have played the pity card earlier, if it meant that he’d get a free drink in the process.

 

Alan and Ben ended up drinking plenty at that bar, and Ben realized that he’d had too much when he got down off of the stool and the floor started spinning. Alan paid for their round of drinks, said goodbye to Richard and helped Ben to the elevator, holding him by the arm. 

“I should be fine from here. No worries.”

“Well, I am worried about you. You look like you might not even make it to your room, with as much as you’ve been drinking. Must be a lightweight,” Alan finished as he gave Ben the once-over. 

“I’m not a lightweight,” proclaimed Ben in his drunken stupor. His speech was slurred and his lisp was pronounced, which caught Alan’s attention. 

“Say whatever you want, but we’re on the same floor, so I might as well help you to your room before you get yourself hurt. Come on.”

The two men entered the lift once the doors opened; Alan held Ben close to him by the waist, and when they got to the back wall of the lift, Ben rested his head onto Alan’s shoulder.

“You’re awfully comfortable,” slurred Ben. Alan was a man with a big body frame and plenty of meat to fill it out, and he’d gotten the same comment from women he’d bedded over the years. Even his wife found him comfortable when he’d gotten home from his business travels and would spend as much time as possible cuddling with him before he’d have to leave again.

“Thank you. I get that a lot.”

“I can imagine.” 

There was something that was attracting Alan to Ben: maybe it was the fact that he looked so adorable while drunk, or it could have been the lisp he kept hearing whenever Ben spoke. The lisp was starting to give Alan a stiff one in his trousers, but through his mind, he begged his manhood to behave itself. _Down, boy,_ thought Alan to his penis. _It’s not a girl; save yourself for when we actually get back to the room._

“Alan?” said Ben through slightly closed lips.

“Yes, Ben?”

“Thank you. For being so kind.”

“No problem. Anything for a man as good as yourself.”

“I don’t think I’m that good of a man when my own wife fucks other men.”

“You’re a good man. Don’t put yourself down like that. It wasn’t your fault that she decided to fuck around, and it doesn’t make you less of a man because she didn’t fuck you instead.”

 

They’d reached their floor, and Alan, still holding Ben by the waist, walked with him out of the lift. 

“What’s your room number?” Ben told him, and they walked, rather sloppily, to Ben’s room. Ben reached into his pocket and pulled out the key card, but when he was unsuccessful in sliding it into the slot, Alan took the key card from him and opened the door. Once inside, Alan closed the door behind them, walked Ben over to the bedroom and to the edge of the bed, but as Alan was about to lay Ben down, Ben flung his arms around Alan’s neck, Alan landing on top of him. 

“What are you doing?” asked Alan, confused and shocked. 

“I don’t know, but it feels right.” Ben was still drunk, but it sounded as if his speech was slightly improving. Maybe the booze was starting to wear off little by little. 

“I need to go,” said Alan, but Ben wouldn’t release him. All he could do was smile up at Alan, soon grabbing his face with both hands. 

“I’m sorry, Alan. You’re such a nice guy, and you’re being so good to me. I’m...” His mind started to wander, looking for the right words to continue the sentence. “I’m so sorry. So sorry.” Ben’s hands fell to each side of him, his words trailing off into whispers.

“It’s all fine,” said Alan. “All fine. I’m gonna leave you at it, and if you need anyone to talk to, I’ll leave you my number.” Alan, grabbing the notepad and pen on the nearby nightstand, wrote his cell number down, placing both back into their place after he finished. “Call me after you sober up. I’ll probably see you around the hotel, depending on how long you’ll be here.”

“Ok, Alan,” said Ben, his lisp shining through his slurred speech, making Alan’s stiff manhood apparent through his trousers. When Ben’s drunken grin widened, Alan thought Ben had noticed his arousal, turning towards the door to hide it from him.

“Good night, Ben,” Alan said, and with a final wave, walked out of the bedroom and closing the door behind him. 

“Good night, Alan,” Ben yelled out once the door shut. He rolled over to his side, grabbing the nearest pillow and hugging it tightly. “Too bad he couldn’t stay,” Ben whispered to the pillow, “but you could be his replacement for tonight.” Ben would cap the night by falling asleep while making out furiously with his new companion, while Alan, in his room and lying in bed, wanked himself to slumber following climax.

 

It was a wonder that Ben woke up without a hangover, bearing in mind how much he’d drank a few hours before. He still felt a bit drunk, so he stumbled to the bathroom with a glass, filling it with tap water. He gulped it down at once during his walk back to the bed, placing the empty glass onto the nightstand and crawling back under the covers after turning on the television. Nothing that was on kept him occupied; on his mind was the thought of what happened earlier that day: going to the bar with his new friend, Alan, and getting pissed on gin and tonics. “Never doing that again,” Ben said to himself as he pulled the covers over his head in embarrassment. 

Ben rolled over to his right side and noticed the folded piece of paper resting on the nightstand, slightly open. He grabbed it and open the paper some more to see Alan’s cell number on it. _I don’t know if I should call him; don’t wanna scare him_ , Ben pondered to himself. The last thing Alan needs is this once half-drunk bastard, the same one he dragged to their room because they were too drunk to function, calling him at all hours. Ben was forever grateful to have a cell phone of his own, for it’d be more appropriate to text him. _Hopefully Alan’s cell is on vibrate so he isn’t disturbed..._

 **Thank you for your help. I apologize if it was out of your way, or if I managed to do anything stupid and out of line. Didn’t want to disturb you with a call. Good night**!

__

_Yeah, that should be good,_ Ben thought. _Time to get some more sleep_.


	6. Chapter 6

Ben managed to bring a woman who wasn’t his wife to his hotel room.

Deannah’s a writer. Ben has a thing for writers, and always has.

In college, he’d developed a technique of how to sniff out writers. They are obviously the most difficult to flirt with verbally; after many failed attempts of wooing female writers in his class, he got creative. He’d return to this method while attempting to pick up Deannah.

Ben noticed her in a coffee shop a block away from his hotel. She was sitting by the window, and Ben was in queue waiting for the caramel frappe latte he’d just ordered. He had Alan on the brain, of course. That is until he set his sights on the girl, who wore reading glasses while pounding furiously on the keyboard of her MacBook. He could tell she was extremely invested in what she was typing, so instead of interrupting her and throwing her off of whatever she was thinking about, he grabbed a napkin, asked the barista for the pen, and upon receipt, began writing a note:

**You are invited to a seduction. Please come to dinner on Friday night. Wear the kind of clothes you would like to be seduced in.**

Picking up his drink and returning the pen to the barista with a cheery “Thanks,” he grabbed the napkin and, walking past Deannah’s table, slid the napkin onto the surface. This skill was something that Ben knew would woo the pants off of any woman, especially female writers, but even Ben was astonished when the young woman noticed the napkin, opened it and read the note, a smile creeping across her mouth and her face lit up. She glanced over at Ben with that smile; he motioned to her to flip the napkin over, the other side containing the hotel’s name and his suite number.

And there Deannah and Ben are, in the living space of his suite, sitting on the sofa and full from eating dinner Ben ordered through room service. Deannah didn’t find this rude at all, for neither of them had to worry about getting overdressed and sitting in a fancy restaurant. Boooooring.

“Thank you for dinner,” said Deannah. “And thank you for that note.”

“You liked the note?” Ben was genuinely surprised; it was something Neil Gaiman mentioned in answer to a question sent to him on Tumblr on how to seduce writers. He thought it was just simple sarcasm, but he never thought it’d work.

“I did. Pretty innovative.”

“Thank you.” To Ben, this was too good to be true.

“You must be a big fan of Neil Gaiman,” said Deannah with an arched eyebrow.

“Damn, you got me,” said Ben in defeat. “But it got you here.”

“Yes, it did. I really did like it, and I’ll have to remember that for the next time a rare species of male like you attempts to flirt with me through writing because I’m a writer.”

“I’m not trying to be a jerk that just wants to sleep with you...”

“I understand. You observed that I was busy and intensely invested in what I was working on, and were considerate of that, and I appreciate that. Wish there were more people like you.” Deannah’s hand patted Ben’s thigh, which began to slightly tense to the touch.

“I’m sorry... I just--never mind. Long story.”

“It’s alright. It’s your decision of whether or not you wanna talk about it.”

“I’d rather not; I don’t wanna scare you away or ruin your digestive process,” said Ben; Deannah chuckled.

 

*****************************************************************************************

 

Ben and his new favorite scribe stared at one another in silence, their hands interlaced and Ben’s thumb rubbing Deannah’s thumb. Then, a knock at the door.

_I thought I put the ‘Do Not Disturb’ tag on the door_ , thought Ben. He looked over at the door of his suite, noticing that it was still there.

“I’ll be right back,” said Ben, releasing Deannah’s hand, getting up from the sofa and walking over to the door. He took a peek through the peephole to find Alan standing on the other side of his suite door. _WHAT IS HE DOING HERE?!_ thought Ben.

“What are you doing here?” Ben whispered loudly once he opened the door.

“I need to talk to you about something,” said Alan. “It’s _very_ important--”

“I myself have something _very important_ going on at the moment,” said Ben, his hand stopping Alan at the door. Alan managed his way past Ben and got into the sitting room of Ben’s suite, noticing that Ben had a guest.

“Hello, Alan,” said Deannah with an annoyed tone.

“Wait, wait. How do you know Alan?” asked Ben, sounding a bit irritated.

“Alan comes into the coffee shop occasionally,” said Deannah. “Usually to _annoy_ people.”

“I don’t _annoy_ **anyone** ,” grumbled Alan. “I like their coffee.”

“You like _flirting_ more,” replied Deannah.

“Okay, kids,” Ben cut in, “let’s not get into it right now. It’s just--what is it you wanted to talk about, Alan?”

After a while, Alan answered, “I can’t talk about it with _the girl_ here.”

“What’s wrong, Alan?” Deannah asked. “Are you afraid I’ll spill your secrets to your little girlfriends that you pick up from the coffee shop?”

“Please leave, woman. This news is meant for Ben’s ears only.”

Ben had to intervene. “Now I will not stand for you being _rude_ to my guest.” Ben was getting red around the ears and annoyed at Alan’s insolence.

“No, no, I’m gonna get out of here. You have my number, right?” Ben nodded to Deannah as she got up from the sofa and walked towards the door. “I hope to hear from you soon, Ben.” He’d followed her to the door, and as she eased herself halfway out into the hallway, she gave Ben a peck on the tip of his nose, and grins formed on both of their mouths.

“Okay, time to go now,” yelled Alan as he pushed Deannah’s head out into the hallway and slammed the door.

“You... are SOOOO... RU--” Once Ben’d body was turned towards him, Alan smashed his lips onto Ben’s before he could finish the sentence. Alan’s thick fingers ran their way through curly, auburn locks while Ben, although shocked, didn’t push Alan away; instead, he pulled Alan in and their tongues wrestled, caught up in a wave of sudden and intense passion. The kiss lasted a good thirty seconds, maybe a bit longer, before they separated.

Alan looked into Ben’s wide eyes. Ben was in shock, completely stunned and taken aback by what just happened. “So that’s what you needed to tell me?” Ben said as he looked down at the floor and quickly back up at Alan.

“Yes. That’s what was... very important.”

“Why were you so rude to Deannah?”

“She was an old conquest, but she turned me down. Said I... ‘interrupted her creative flow’.”

“Well, it seems that, although you’re a ladies’ man, you don’t know a thing about writers. They’re pretty touchy about things like that.”

“Yeah, but I just wanted to get laid, is all.” Ben could do nothing but chuckle. The man he thought was _the_ chick magnet of this hotel turned out to be a normal guy who couldn’t bag just _any_ woman, especially women like Deannah, someone who intrigued Ben. But back to the issue at hand, the kiss. _That kiss..._

“Why did you kiss me?”

“I felt I had to do it, get your attention.”

“Well, you certainly have it. Is that all you needed to tell me?”

“No.” Alan walked over to the sofa, plopping down onto it and sitting back, getting comfy. Ben sat down next to him, his chin resting on his hands, which were interlaced together.

“I’ve been thinking about you lately,” said the older man. “Even when I picked up this gorgeous redhead and brought her to my room, she just... reminded me so much of you.”

“Yeah, but I don’t have... breasts.” Both men chuckled at the joke. “That kiss was rather... very passionate.”

“Yes, it was, and I don’t regret one bit of it.”

“And I don’t resent you for it,” replied Ben. “It’s been a long time since I’ve kissed anyone like that.”

“Oh, really? Well, who was better?” Alan asked jokingly.

Ben took a minute or so to think about his answer.

“You were,” he said surely. 

Alan looked over at Ben, his grin falling from his face. _He liked it_ , thought Alan. _There are so many things I could do to this beautiful man. Many naughty things_. But Alan understood that, with fresh, new beginnings came boundaries, so Alan had to stick with the basics, which included touching Ben’s face in his hands, caressing Ben’s cheekbones with his thumbs, pulling Ben’s face closer to his, and kissing him once again.


	7. Chapter 7

Ben managed to bring a woman who wasn’t his wife to his hotel room.

Deannah’s a writer. Ben has a thing for writers, and always has.

In college, he’d developed a technique of how to sniff out writers. They are obviously the most difficult to flirt with verbally; after many failed attempts of wooing female writers in his class, he got creative. He’d return to this method while attempting to pick up Deannah.

Ben noticed her in a coffee shop a block away from his hotel. She was sitting by the window, and Ben was in queue waiting for the caramel frappe latte he’d just ordered. He had Alan on the brain, of course. That is until he set his sights on the girl, who wore reading glasses while pounding furiously on the keyboard of her MacBook. He could tell she was extremely invested in what she was typing, so instead of interrupting her and throwing her off of whatever she was thinking about, he grabbed a napkin, asked the barista for the pen, and upon receipt, began writing a note:

**You are invited to a seduction. Please come to dinner on Friday night. Wear the kind of clothes you would like to be seduced in.**

Picking up his drink and returning the pen to the barista with a cheery “Thanks,” he grabbed the napkin and, walking past Deannah’s table, slid the napkin onto the surface. This skill was something that Ben knew would woo the pants off of any woman, especially female writers, but even Ben was astonished when the young woman noticed the napkin, opened it and read the note, a smile creeping across her mouth and her face lit up. She glanced over at Ben with that smile; he motioned to her to flip the napkin over, the other side containing the hotel’s name and his suite number.

And there Deannah and Ben are, in the living space of his suite, sitting on the sofa and full from eating dinner Ben ordered through room service. Deannah didn’t find this rude at all, for neither of them had to worry about getting overdressed and sitting in a fancy restaurant. Boooooring.

“Thank you for dinner,” said Deannah. “And thank you for that note.”

“You liked the note?” Ben was genuinely surprised; it was something Neil Gaiman mentioned in answer to a question sent to him on Tumblr on how to seduce writers. He thought it was just simple sarcasm, but he never thought it’d work.

“I did. Pretty innovative.”

“Thank you.” To Ben, this was too good to be true.

“You must be a big fan of Neil Gaiman,” said Deannah with an arched eyebrow.

“Damn, you got me,” said Ben in defeat. “But it got you here.”

“Yes, it did. I really did like it, and I’ll have to remember that for the next time a rare species of male like you attempts to flirt with me through writing because I’m a writer.”

“I’m not trying to be a jerk that just wants to sleep with you...”

“I understand. You observed that I was busy and intensely invested in what I was working on, and were considerate of that, and I appreciate that. Wish there were more people like you.” Deannah’s hand patted Ben’s thigh, which began to slightly tense to the touch.

“I’m sorry... I just--never mind. Long story.”

“It’s alright. It’s your decision of whether or not you wanna talk about it.”

“I’d rather not; I don’t wanna scare you away or ruin your digestive process,” said Ben; Deannah chuckled.

 

*****************************************************************************************

 

Ben and his new favorite scribe stared at one another in silence, their hands interlaced and Ben’s thumb rubbing Deannah’s thumb. Then, a knock at the door.

_I thought I put the ‘Do Not Disturb’ tag on the door_ , thought Ben. He looked over at the door of his suite, noticing that it was still there.

“I’ll be right back,” said Ben, releasing Deannah’s hand, getting up from the sofa and walking over to the door. He took a peek through the peephole to find Alan standing on the other side of his suite door. _WHAT IS HE DOING HERE?!_ thought Ben.

“What are you doing here?” Ben whispered loudly once he opened the door.

“I need to talk to you about something,” said Alan. “It’s _very_ important--”

“I myself have something _very important_ going on at the moment,” said Ben, his hand stopping Alan at the door. Alan managed his way past Ben and got into the sitting room of Ben’s suite, noticing that Ben had a guest.

“Hello, Alan,” said Deannah with an annoyed tone.

“Wait, wait. How do you know Alan?” asked Ben, sounding a bit irritated.

“Alan comes into the coffee shop occasionally,” said Deannah. “Usually to _annoy_ people.”

“I don’t _annoy_ **anyone** ,” grumbled Alan. “I like their coffee.”

“You like _flirting_ more,” replied Deannah.

“Okay, kids,” Ben cut in, “let’s not get into it right now. It’s just--what is it you wanted to talk about, Alan?”

After a while, Alan answered, “I can’t talk about it with _the girl_ here.”

“What’s wrong, Alan?” Deannah asked. “Are you afraid I’ll spill your secrets to your little girlfriends that you pick up from the coffee shop?”

“Please leave, woman. This news is meant for Ben’s ears only.”

Ben had to intervene. “Now I will not stand for you being _rude_ to my guest.” Ben was getting red around the ears and annoyed at Alan’s insolence.

“No, no, I’m gonna get out of here. You have my number, right?” Ben nodded to Deannah as she got up from the sofa and walked towards the door. “I hope to hear from you soon, Ben.” He’d followed her to the door, and as she eased herself halfway out into the hallway, she gave Ben a peck on the tip of his nose, and grins formed on both of their mouths.

“Okay, time to go now,” yelled Alan as he pushed Deannah’s head out into the hallway and slammed the door.

“You... are SOOOO... RU--” Once Ben’d body was turned towards him, Alan smashed his lips onto Ben’s before he could finish the sentence. Alan’s thick fingers ran their way through curly, auburn locks while Ben, although shocked, didn’t push Alan away; instead, he pulled Alan in and their tongues wrestled, caught up in a wave of sudden and intense passion. The kiss lasted a good thirty seconds, maybe a bit longer, before they separated.

Alan looked into Ben’s wide eyes. Ben was in shock, completely stunned and taken aback by what just happened. “So that’s what you needed to tell me?” Ben said as he looked down at the floor and quickly back up at Alan.

“Yes. That’s what was... very important.”

“Why were you so rude to Deannah?”

“She was an old conquest, but she turned me down. Said I... ‘interrupted her creative flow’.”

“Well, it seems that, although you’re a ladies’ man, you don’t know a thing about writers. They’re pretty touchy about things like that.”

“Yeah, but I just wanted to get laid, is all.” Ben could do nothing but chuckle. The man he thought was _the_ chick magnet of this hotel turned out to be a normal guy who couldn’t bag just _any_ woman, especially women like Deannah, someone who intrigued Ben. But back to the issue at hand, the kiss. _That kiss..._

“Why did you kiss me?”

“I felt I had to do it, get your attention.”

“Well, you certainly have it. Is that all you needed to tell me?”

“No.” Alan walked over to the sofa, plopping down onto it and sitting back, getting comfy. Ben sat down next to him, his chin resting on his hands, which were interlaced together.

“I’ve been thinking about you lately,” said the older man. “Even when I picked up this gorgeous redhead and brought her to my room, she just... reminded me so much of you.”

“Yeah, but I don’t have... breasts.” Both men chuckled at the joke. “That kiss was rather... very passionate.”

“Yes, it was, and I don’t regret one bit of it.”

“And I don’t resent you for it,” replied Ben. “It’s been a long time since I’ve kissed anyone like that.”

“Oh, really? Well, who was better?” Alan asked jokingly.

Ben took a minute or so to think about his answer.

“You were,” he said surely. 

Alan looked over at Ben, his grin falling from his face. _He liked it_ , thought Alan. _There are so many things I could do to this beautiful man. Many naughty things_. But Alan understood that, with fresh, new beginnings came boundaries, so Alan had to stick with the basics, which included touching Ben’s face in his hands, caressing Ben’s cheekbones with his thumbs, pulling Ben’s face closer to his, and kissing him once again.


	8. Chapter 8

Ben managed to bring a woman who wasn’t his wife to his hotel room.

Deannah’s a writer. Ben has a thing for writers, and always has.

In college, he’d developed a technique of how to sniff out writers. They are obviously the most difficult to flirt with verbally; after many failed attempts of wooing female writers in his class, he got creative. He’d return to this method while attempting to pick up Deannah.

Ben noticed her in a coffee shop a block away from his hotel. She was sitting by the window, and Ben was in queue waiting for the caramel frappe latte he’d just ordered. He had Alan on the brain, of course. That is until he set his sights on the girl, who wore reading glasses while pounding furiously on the keyboard of her MacBook. He could tell she was extremely invested in what she was typing, so instead of interrupting her and throwing her off of whatever she was thinking about, he grabbed a napkin, asked the barista for the pen, and upon receipt, began writing a note:

You are invited to a seduction. Please come to dinner on Friday night. Wear the kind of clothes you would like to be seduced in.

Picking up his drink and returning the pen to the barista with a cheery “Thanks,” he grabbed the napkin and, walking past Deannah’s table, slid the napkin onto the surface. This skill was something that Ben knew would woo the pants off of any woman, especially female writers, but even Ben was astonished when the young woman noticed the napkin, opened it and read the note, a smile creeping across her mouth and her face lit up. She glanced over at Ben with that smile; he motioned to her to flip the napkin over, the other side containing the hotel’s name and his suite number.

And there Deannah and Ben are, in the living space of his suite, sitting on the sofa and full from eating dinner Ben ordered through room service. Deannah didn’t find this rude at all, for neither of them had to worry about getting overdressed and sitting in a fancy restaurant. Boooooring.

“Thank you for dinner,” said Deannah. “And thank you for that note.”  
“You liked the note?” Ben was genuinely surprised; it was something Neil Gaiman mentioned in answer to a question sent to him on Tumblr on how to seduce writers. He thought it was just simple sarcasm, but he never thought it’d work.  
“I did. Pretty innovative.”  
“Thank you.” To Ben, this was too good to be true.  
“You must be a big fan of Neil Gaiman,” said Deannah with an arched eyebrow.  
“Damn, you got me,” said Ben in defeat. “But it got you here.”  
“Yes, it did. I really did like it, and I’ll have to remember that for the next time a rare species of male like you attempts to flirt with me through writing because I’m a writer.”  
“I’m not trying to be a jerk that just wants to sleep with you...”  
“I understand. You observed that I was busy and intensely invested in what I was working on, and were considerate of that, and I appreciate that. Wish there were more people like you.” Deannah’s hand patted Ben’s thigh, which began to slightly tense to the touch.  
“I’m sorry... I just--never mind. Long story.”  
“It’s alright. It’s your decision of whether or not you wanna talk about it.”  
“I’d rather not; I don’t wanna scare you away or ruin your digestive process,” said Ben; Deannah chuckled.

 

Ben and his new favorite scribe stared at one another in silence, their hands interlaced and Ben’s thumb rubbing Deannah’s thumb. Then, a knock at the door.

I thought I put the ‘Do Not Disturb’ tag on the door, thought Ben. He looked over at the door of his suite, noticing that it was still there.

“I’ll be right back,” said Ben, releasing Deannah’s hand, getting up from the sofa and walking over to the door. He took a peek through the peephole to find Alan standing on the other side of his suite door. WHAT IS HE DOING HERE?! thought Ben.

“What are you doing here?” Ben whispered loudly once he opened the door.  
“I need to talk to you about something,” said Alan. “It’s very important--”  
“I myself have something very important going on at the moment,” said Ben, his hand stopping Alan at the door. Alan managed his way past Ben and got into the sitting room of Ben’s suite, noticing that Ben had a guest.  
“Hello, Alan,” said Deannah with an annoyed tone.  
“Wait, wait. How do you know Alan?” asked Ben, sounding a bit irritated.  
“Alan comes into the coffee shop occasionally,” said Deannah. “Usually to annoy people.”  
“I don’t annoy anyone,” grumbled Alan. “I like their coffee.”  
“You like flirting more,” replied Deannah.  
“Okay, kids,” Ben cut in, “let’s not get into it right now. It’s just--what is it you wanted to talk about, Alan?”  
After a while, Alan answered, “I can’t talk about it with the girl here.”  
“What’s wrong, Alan?” Deannah asked. “Are you afraid I’ll spill your secrets to your little girlfriends that you pick up from the coffee shop?”  
“Please leave, woman. This news is meant for Ben’s ears only.”  
Ben had to intervene. “Now I will not stand for you being rude to my guest.” Ben was getting red around the ears and annoyed at Alan’s insolence.  
“No, no, I’m gonna get out of here. You have my number, right?” Ben nodded to Deannah as she got up from the sofa and walked towards the door. “I hope to hear from you soon, Ben.” He’d followed her to the door, and as she eased herself halfway out into the hallway, she gave Ben a peck on the tip of his nose, and grins formed on both of their mouths.  
“Okay, time to go now,” yelled Alan as he pushed Deannah’s head out into the hallway and slammed the door.  
“You... are SOOOO... RU--” Once Ben’d body was turned towards him, Alan smashed his lips onto Ben’s before he could finish the sentence. Alan’s thick fingers ran their way through curly, auburn locks while Ben, although shocked, didn’t push Alan away; instead, he pulled Alan in and their tongues wrestled, caught up in a wave of sudden and intense passion. The kiss lasted a good thirty seconds, maybe a bit longer, before they separated.

Alan looked into Ben’s wide eyes. Ben was in shock, completely stunned and taken aback by what just happened. “So that’s what you needed to tell me?” Ben said as he looked down at the floor and quickly back up at Alan.  
“Yes. That’s what was... very important.”  
“Why were you so rude to Deannah?”  
“She was an old conquest, but she turned me down. Said I... ‘interrupted her creative flow’.”  
“Well, it seems that, although you’re a ladies’ man, you don’t know a thing about writers. They’re pretty touchy about things like that.”  
“Yeah, but I just wanted to get laid, is all.” Ben could do nothing but chuckle. The man he thought was the chick magnet of this hotel turned out to be a normal guy who couldn’t bag just any woman, especially women like Deannah, someone who intrigued Ben. But back to the issue at hand, the kiss. That kiss...  
“Why did you kiss me?”  
“I felt I had to do it, get your attention.”  
“Well, you certainly have it. Is that all you needed to tell me?”  
“No.” Alan walked over to the sofa, plopping down onto it and sitting back, getting comfy. Ben sat down next to him, his chin resting on his hands, which were interlaced together.  
“I’ve been thinking about you lately,” said the older man. “Even when I picked up this gorgeous redhead and brought her to my room, she just... reminded me so much of you.”  
“Yeah, but I don’t have... breasts.” Both men chuckled at the joke. “That kiss was rather... very passionate.”  
“Yes, it was, and I don’t regret one bit of it.”  
“And I don’t resent you for it,” replied Ben. “It’s been a long time since I’ve kissed anyone like that.”  
“Oh, really? Well, who was better?” Alan asked jokingly.  
Ben took a minute or so to think about his answer.  
“You were,” he said surely.  
Alan looked over at Ben, his grin falling from his face. He liked it, thought Alan. There are so many things I could do to this beautiful man. Many naughty things. But Alan knew that, with fresh, new beginnings came boundaries, so Alan had to stick with the basics, which included touching Ben’s face in his hands, caressing Ben’s cheekbones with his thumbs, pulling Ben’s face closer to his, and kissing him once again.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of when Deannah is kicked out by a jealous Alan during her date with Ben.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter might not be great, but it's been a while since I last updated this fic. 
> 
> I'd also like to thank those of you who've left kudos on this fic; it's much appreciated!

“Alan?”

“Yes,” said Alan in a low, tired growl.

“Thank you.”

“Why are you thanking me? This old fool...”

“You’re a fantastic, amazing man, and I’m...”

“You’re what?” Alan, lying on his stomach and head facing away from Ben, turned his head and looked up at the ginger, shooting him an eyebrow.

“Nothing,” Ben hesitated. “No bother.” 

“Oh, dear,” sighed Alan. “You’ve fallen and fallen hard.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,”, said Ben as he took Alan’s hand in his and pecked it with kisses.

“You’re in love, you cheesy bastard.” Alan pushed himself up to sit upright, watching Ben while sitting on his heels. Both men were naked, yet modestly covered with bedsheets. “I been thinking about you nonstop, since the last time we hung out.”

“Same here. I don’t know what it is about you...”

“I’m hot,” said Alan in a seductive tone, and Ben couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Yes, you are. You’ve managed to wear me out!”

“I think we’ve worn one another out.”

About a hour before, they’d experienced the best sex either one of them would ever have. Neither Alan or Ben had sexual encounters with anyone of the same sex before this night, and, surprisingly enough, not even with their own wives or prior lovers. 

“Why did that feel so good? Why does this feel amazing?”

“Either it’s out of love, or we were extremely horny,” Alan replied. The older man then sat on the edge of the bed, staring out the window overlooking much of midtown. Ben crept behind him, wrapping his thighs around Alan’s hips and his arms around the waist. Ben nestled his face into Alan’s neck planting light kisses and taking in the scent; Alan smelled like sweat and sex, making Ben’s prick slightly harden in arousal. 

“Can’t we stay like this forever?”

“Now you’re starting to sound like a lovey-dovey schoolgirl. Maybe I should go--” Before Alan could get up to put on clothes and leave the room, Ben tightened his grip around Alan’s torso. 

“You... are not... going... anywhere. Not until we’ve had another go.”

“I have a presentation in three hours that I need to prepare for.”

“And we can have another hour to ourselves before you leave this room.”

“Why must you do this to me?” Alan asked in a desperate tone. 

“Whatever do you mean?”

“Your voice is as dangerous as mine.”

“Explains why the fucking was so good.” Both men chuckled, and after resting for another ten minutes, took the rest of the hour and made love once again. It was gentle, slow, lazy, with Ben on top, riding Alan, Alan stroking Ben’s cock until he spilled his seed onto Alan’s stomach. Alan, lying on his back, thrusted into Ben a few times before coming inside of him.

The couple took a few more minutes to come down from the ecstasy, and finally got out of bed, Alan clothing himself while Ben popped into the master bathroom for a quick shower. 

With Ben occupied, Alan sat back down on the edge of the bed, thinking over the events prior. _What my wife would think if I told her about this_ , Alan thought. _She’d probably have Ben move in!_ He then smiled at the thought of seeing Ben naked as he did, spent from the beautiful love they made, glistened in sweat and ejaculate. He’d never seen a man so beautiful before, and didn’t think he’d ever see another or the remainder of his years. It’s a wonder I haven’t scared him away...

At the end of that thought, Ben exited the room, a towel wrapped around his hips. “I thought you’d left by now.”

Alan stood up, walked over to Ben, and, with both hands holding each side of Ben’s sculpted face, kissed him deeply. Although the kiss would only last lest than 30 seconds, it felt like an eternity for both men. “I hope we see each other again.”

“I have a great feeling we will, and there’s no guarantee that the headboards on either of our beds will survive next time.”

Alan couldn’t help the wide grin growing on his face, making his eyes smile and dance with deviant delight. Running his thick fingers through Ben’s ginger curls, he grabbed a handful and gently pulled Ben’s head back, exposing his bare, lean, wet neck. Alan then planted his mouth onto the left side, sucking and nibbling at Ben’s pale skin until it left a mark Alan was satisfied with. Ben bit his lip as he stared at Alan with lust.

“You’re mine,” said Alan in a low snarl. “No one else can claim you, not even that _jezebel_ you had in here earlier.”

“I understand, sir,” said Ben.

“No need to be formal, young one.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry about the long hiatus; I've been caught up in life and doing other things when I could've been updating this fic. There's much more I'd like to bring to it, and I hope you enjoy this small sliver I managed to get out of my system. Hope I can bring you more very soon :-D
> 
> And thank you to those who have left kudos; MUCH APPRECIATED!!!!!!!

“So, been having fun with your beau?” Deannah asked. Ben's iced coffee dribbling from his mouth as he drank.

“WHAT?!” he croaked out, wiping his mouth and taking a napkin from the short stack on the table to wipe the coffee from his neck and shirt.

“Too obvious?”

Ben shook his head.

“Oh, come on. Why else would he kick me out?” Deannah’s eyebrow arched. “Was it worthwhile, at least?”

“Okay, no more questions,” Ben warned. “I’d rather not talk about this right now, not to a stranger.”

“Oh,” Deannah scoffed, “so now we’re strangers, after we’d had a date that was later interrupted by--” Ben’s hand went straight for and landed on Deannah’s mouth before she could finish her sentence.

“I said I’d rather not talk about it.” Ben’s voice was low and stern. His hand soon left her mouth.

“Okay, fine,” Deannah said in a low voice.

A pregnant pause; both parties drank from large, clear, plastic cups. Deannah's cup was filled with iced water, but she didn't drink from it often; her hands and half her brain were occupied in notes she scribbled on another napkin. 

“How is he?” Deannah asked with a side eye.

“Don’t you talk to him?” Ben asked back. “I remember you telling me he practically flirts with you.”

“Not for a few days now,” Deannah replied. “Not since you two _apparently_ see each other.” Ben motioned to cover her mouth again. “Okay, okay, I’m not asking about that, alright? That’s why I’m asking you.”

“He’s fine. Anything _else_ you want me to tell you?”

“No.” Deannah took a sip of her water, which was cool going down her throat. “I don’t need to know all of your business.”

Another lengthy silence. Then Ben opened his mouth as if to say something...

“What are you two up to?” said a voice from behind them; Alan had just walked in, towards their table. “Talking about me behind my back?”

“Please don't, Alan,” Deannah said, annoyed.

“Someone sound a bit... envious,” Alan teased. “Has he told you of our adventures?” The back of Alan’s pudgy index finger stroked the edge of Ben’s sharp cheekbone.

“Okay, time out! TMI!”

“Do you think we should tell her,” Alan asked Ben, “so she gets a _clue_?”

“I don’t need a _clue_ , _Alan_ ; it was pretty _obvious_ when you _kicked me out_ of the room.”

“Well, then, _why_ are you _here_?” sneered Alan.

“Why are you being so damn _snarky_?” Deannah said, a bit of her upper lip quirking up in agitation.

“Will the both of you shut up, please?!” Ben whispered loudly through his teeth, and both Deannah and Alan brought down their arms. “Both of you sound like you’re fighting over something.”

“Well, what if we are?” Alan asked, giving a side eye to Deannah.

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” Ben said. _Stop being cheeky_ , Ben’s eyes said, glaring at Alan with conviction; it was enough for Alan to back down.

“Well,” Deannah said, gathering her things, “I’ll leave the two of you alone. I’ve got some work to do.”

"Took you long enough," Alan said under his breath, but low enough Deannah couldn't hear him; Ben heard, however, and pinched Alan’s thigh as punishment, and Alan made faces full of slight pain. The display made Deannah chuckle.

“You two behave!” Deannah said, smiling at Ben and then frowning at Alan. She turned and walked out of the coffee shop, and Ben collected his empty cup, stood from his seat and walked over to the trash.

“Where are you going?” Alan asked. “Chasing after her?”

“No, silly. I’m throwing my trash away. Wanna go someplace else to talk?”

“Well, I just got here not too long ago, and I’ve become rather comfortable here.”

"Okay, I’m going to the loo. Be right back.” Ben walked briskly to the restrooms, leaving Alan to ponder at their table.

Alan looked around the coffee shop, watching customers come and go, order their drinks, sit down and read papers or write notes in notebooks or notepads or type away on their laptops. He looked down at the table and noticed a folded napkin where Deannah was sitting. He figured it was trash, a used napkin, but he didn’t want to touch it for fear of catching Deannah’s cooties. That thought alone made him cringe.

But his curiosity was strong, and after a few moments, he quickly grabbed the napkin while looking around to see if anyone was watching him, and opened it. 

 _What the hell is this?_ Illegible notes were written on the napkin. _Typical of writers_ , Alan thought. _Although..._  Alan then tucked the napkin away in a pocket inside his jacket, interlacing his fingers together just as he spotted Ben walking from the restroom and over to their table.

“So, do you want to go for a walk back to the hotel and get some drinks at the bar,” Ben said with an arched eyebrow, “OR--” his index finger shot up -- “do you want to stay here and let me order you a drink?”

“Medium Caramel Machiatto, hot, four sugar packets, with whip cream.” Alan winked at his beau, and Ben smiled as he walked over to the barista station and put in Alan’s order.


End file.
